What's wrong with women better yet, what's wrong with lobe

What's wrong with women? Maybe I should say, what's wrong with love.

I've been in several relationships and dates but lets just talk about the last 4.

After a long term relationship, damaged by her alcohol abuse, I went single for a while. After 3 years I met this British woman, lets call her Lady Di. She came to my home town on a 2 week vacation and stayed with a friend of mine who happened to be the manager of the apartments I was leaving at. A week before the Brits arrival my friend said to me "She is gay and I don't know where to take her, can you show her the gay life in Dallas?" I said "Sure, that would be fun"

Lady Di landed in Dallas and my friend introduced her to me. She was attractive, 10 years older than me, quiet, nice blue eyes, she was here for just few weeks and I was her gay tour guide. A few days after we met, she asked me if I wanted to go swim at 6 a.m. that next morning and I said "sure" thinking to myself "what did I just say? Sure? Why? It's way too early in the morning" but I was going to be woken up at 6 a.m.

Knock knock (6 a.m.) I got out of bed, opened the door and said "let me put my bathing suit on, come in and sit down" She put her arms around me and, needless to saw, we didn't swim, next thing I knew I was in my bed with her. Good surprise since I hadn't had any sex in months and it was needed as my own stress release. I remember thinking that for the next 2 weeks I would get sex and then she would go back to England and it would be perfect. YEAH RIGHT!. While she was in Dallas we went out, she came to my apartment every morning and came back after I got back from work and that continued for 2 weeks.

When she left, she cried, she told me she would miss me, that the woman that becomes my girlfriend would be very lucky, blah blah blah blah. She started calling me long distance every day and I said to myself "Self, I know it's long distance but I'm starting to like her more and more" of course I thought that, woman tell me things that I think they mean but in the end they are just telling me what they think I want to hear or what I call "Chat Trap" and boy I fell for it.

I flew to London for Thanksgiving that year and then I went back to spend Christmas and New Years with her. To be honest that was the best thing about that relationship. I spent New Years 2000 in London and met incredible people and one became my best friend and he is my best friend to this day. things do happen for some screwed up reason.

In May she moved in with me, yes she left her house, kids, a 10 year teaching job EVERYTHING because I was "THE ONE" for her.

What I met Lady Di, she was fun, funny, liked adventure, she had an attraction for me, my mind, my humor, my body, and was gentle and kind.

Once she moved in to my place she became the kind of person I detest. Angry, moody, her way or the highway, a wimp, too afraid to take the driving test because she felt she would fail, mind you, she's been driving for 40 something years for Gods sake! Everything was an issue, everything I did was wrong, bitch bitch bitch. Put me down in front of people, my friends started to hate her and after a year or so I decided I didn't have to put up with a piece of crap person. So she was out of my life, my room, my bed my things everything and the swimming pool.

I was happily single again. Then I met Princess Charming who is now my best friend. Nothing bad about the relationship, we were just meant to be friends, however, we were together as a couple for few years, what changed? When we first met she said she liked to go out, do things, hang out with friends, loved water sports, swim, lakes etc. She turned out to be a home body, pot smoker every minute of the day and was allergic to swimming, lake water,k ocean water and wanted to just go fishing, ok in reality she was not allergic but that's what she said. It ended,we remain friends. I was single again.

Then I met a gorgeous strong woman, we'll call her G. Ex Navy girl, sexy, great in bed, we clicked in many things, she loved the outdoors and we laughed a lot, she fell in love with me (so she said) Sex was great, we didn't go out much because she was either working long hours or helping her sister or taking care of her dogs and the sisters dogs etc. In other words, the kind of person who has no time management skill and puts so much on her plate she can't even see what's in it. She went from being with me every weekend, calling me every day, wanting to see me, telling me she missed me and then few months later to, no calls in days, not time to hang out, lots of over time at work and decided to go to night school and I can deal with that, what I can't and will never be able to deal with is lack of communication, which to this day I don't think she knows the meaning of communication. Buy the way, many asked me "is she cheating on you?" and the answer is 100% NO.

Again, sex was awesome!. The break up was horrible, I went to her birthday party in mid November and never heard back from her. I guess I was the one thing on her plate she decided she didn't want, but meanwhile she led me to believe that she was in love with me and wanted to buy a house with me and live together. Yeah right! again Crap Chat.

That Thanksgiving, Christmas an New years was horrible for me, I really fell for that G woman, my heart was torn, crushed, burnt, ripped open.

Months passed and no word from G and on my birthday I got a text on my phone "Happy Birthday" When I saw it was from her my heart pounded so hard I had to sit down for a minute. Few weeks later she called me and we talked. She said she missed me, blah blah blah.. we met again and she said that she made a big mistake on losing me and so we got back together, that was my biggest mistake. Her desire and love for me only lasted few months and then she went back to being her own self centered, selfish non communicative cold bitch. We broke up and nope I don't care what happens, I will not put myself or my heart and feelings into that again. The only thing I miss is how great we matched sexually. I was single again.

A year went by, I dated several women, didn't want or need a relationship till I met the last one, we will call her "Warped". Warped told me that she loved outdoors, water sports, not an alcoholic not a drug addict, not mean, loves animals, playing pool, dancing, singing etc etc etc. And I fell for it. Let me tell you how this one changed. I moved in with her 4 months after we decided to become lovers. I still had my old apartment and my best friend took over the lease so I didn't have to break a lease. I still carried my spare key on my key chain. THE DAY I took that key from my key chain it all changed "hey you don't have your apartment key on the key chain" she asked and I said "nope, I hate keys" I didn't say it was on my little jewelry box, I didn't think to say that and I wasn't hiding it either. That day she changed. She started mixing pain meds with alcohol and let me tell you, she is one mean drunk. She has no social skills, some friends have told me "what's wrong with your girlfriend" I mean she changed. One day she got wasted, I was tired, I work 8 to 10 hours a day. She works 1 week a month. I was tired and she got wasted, I told her I wanted to go back into the house and chill out, she didn't want that so she got mad, got drunk, got the iron poker from the fireplace and went after me, then decided to break every window in my car yes Ms Warped is a psycho.

I am done with this "relationship" thing. I am my self, I don't change, What you see is what you get. I am a hard worker, loving, calm, non confrontational person. I love to play and love to chill out. I love making love with someone who is not three sheets to the wind. So I decided I am better off alone than with bad company. I will date, I will find a sex partner with no strings attached (only the sexy handcuffs) but fall in love again? SHOOT ME please.

Love is like chocolate, everyone likes it but it is not good for you. It can kill you.

The funniest Story I've ever read

Funniest story I've read..

My Imaginary Friend

by David Raffin

When I was a child I had an imaginary friend. The thing that perturbed me more than anything was that everyone could see him but me. They called him by name. I had to take it on collective authority that he even existed.

His name was Nick, or so they all said. He was a railroad-hopping hobo. He regaled my relations and schoolyard chums with endless stories about hobo-ism, american culture, and recipes for beans (a dish which, according to him, could be prepared in 47 different basic variations, the derivatives of which were endless).

My mother cooked for his tastes- even though father and I both tried to get her to serve more upper-class meals. "If it's good enough for Nick it's good enough for us all," said mother. "He is, after all, the everyman."

And so it went. Nick Interfered with my mother and father's marital relations, my school companions, and eventually my love life.

He was a very opinionated invisible friend, or so I have been lead to believe. He had a way of making me feel very small and insignificant, albeit indirectly. When I was a small child, the other kids from around the neighborhood would all come to my door every saturday morning and ask if Nick could come out and play. When we played Baseball, I was one of the last picked for a team. Invariably, Nick was one of the first. I tried to be a good sport about all this and kept my feelings about the matter pretty much to myself.

When I was twelve years old my parents divorced. "It's not your fault," my father was sure to let me know. "It's that damned friend of yours."

"Who?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes.

"Nick, as if you didn't know," my father growled. "He is an albatross around the neck of this family and I curse the day you brought him into this domicile."

My protests were for naught. For the umpteenth time I swore I knew no one named Nick, and that everyone was creeping me out with the constant references to this person of dubious origin and existence.

The story, as it goes, is that my father came home early one day, as was his occasional practice, and found Nick in bed with my mother. My mother, for her part, tried several explanations but all fell on deaf ears. My father had seen what he had seen, and that was all there was to it.

After father moved out our relationship deteriorated until we were cold and distant. By the time I was thirteen I referred to him simply as "Mr. Phillips." My mother became distant as well, throwing herself into various hobbies; like dancing by herself in the kitchen to music that only she could hear. I tried my best to ignore the growing peculiarities that set me apart from others my age. I guess you could rightly say that this was my first period of great denial.

I have always felt that I was somehow being held to blame. By the time I entered puberty I was lonely, anxious, and beginning to suspect my eyesight, if not my sanity. After all, if everyone else saw Nick, must he not necessarily exist?

He was like the plague; he never went away and yet could never be seen. He came and went as he pleased and had catastrophic effects on the social system.

Throughout school I was a strait "C" student. It wasn't due to a lack of intelligence, as you can see my IQ is quite high, it's just that whenever I did well it was always brought under strict scrutiny. I would score extremely high on the standardized tests of the day but afterward face questioning about my honesty and integrity. "We have reason to believe that you may not have earned this score," they would say. "Why do you always pick on me?" I would ask. "Because the other students don't bring raggedy hobos to school with them in order to feed them the answers," was always the stern reply.

I was lost.

Shouting, crying, protests- nothing helped the situation. I was ultimately sent to the school psychologist. I always dreaded these frequent visits as they always came in the middle of different classes, ensuring that the entire student body was made aware not only of my problems with Nick, but the fact that the system was bringing into question my very sanity.

As for my schoolmates, it seemed that Nick was very popular. He was invited to every party. Whenever I was with one of my schoolmates I was resigned to my fate as the odd man out. I ask you, how can a kid compete with stories of hopping freight trains?

If I was interested in a girl, it was not long before I found that she had an eye for Nick. Given that he was usually described to me as 5' 3", unshaven, dirty, in early middle age, and possessing of a very gravelly voice, I never understood this attraction that he held to the opposite sex. All my female teachers and classmates were in love with him. Most of my male teachers and classmates idolized him.

I looked forward to college like no one else I knew. It was a time of great hope for me. It was a chance for a new beginning. I thought that by choosing a far away college I could shake my parents, my beginnings, and most of all- Nick. I chose Idaho State, thinking that a hobo with a love for beans would have little interest in the potato state. I was foolish to think that I could get away. Nick was the hit of the campus. Everyone loved him. He became editor of the student paper; a rag that was now, as far as I could tell, filled with many blank columns and vast empty white patches. People all over campus were going on and on about the witty things that Nick was writing about and the depth of his poetry that was apparently showcased daily for all but me to read. I was again relegated to the shadows.

I spent a lot of time in my dorm room, sulking. I studied alone. I ate alone. I walked to class alone. I shunned most everyone, thinking it better to just earn my degree and not bother trying to make a social life for myself. For the first time in my life I got above average, even excellent, grades. I kept all human contact and conversation down to a minimum. I even took to counting the number of words I used in a day and totaling them up in the evening. Every time I had spoken less than a dozen words in a day- most often mumbled under my breath, I rewarded myself with an extra hour of sleep. Nick may have been with me, but as long as we were the only two there I never knew the difference.

In my junior year, I made my tragic mistake. I had not heard a comment about Nick in nearly two years. I had almost forgotten my pain. To top it off, people really were looking at me with interest. I was the strangest student on campus. The others saw me as moody and interesting. I was a mystery to them, as I was to myself. One day I was invited to a party and I decided to go.

When I got there people were all really friendly. I had a little to drink and that loosened me up and I started socializing. I was shocked to find myself having a good time. I felt free for the first time in my life.

After a while, I met this girl named Ellen. She was very attractive and had a sexy voice. She laughed at all my jokes, the ones that I had been saving up with no one to tell them to these many years. Her laugh lit up the night and made my heart sing. After the party we went back to my place. I opened the door and we practically rolled into the room: kissing fondling, removing clothes.

A few minutes into it, I noticed that there were no longer two participants in the nights main event. Ellen was just laying there, transfixed.

She was looking off to my left. "Who's you enigmatic friend? He's dreamy," she whispered, a wicked little pixie smile on her face. I was no longer the objet de désir. I crept to the closet and spent the night there unnoticed. I plugged my ears with my fingers but that couldn't shut out all the noise. I cried myself to sleep.

The next day I failed an Anthropology test. I couldn't get my mind off the indignity of the night before. To top it off, the night in the closet had strained my neck to the degree that I was suffering from a violent migraine and could hardly focus.

After deliberating over the matter for a few days I decided that the matter was simple- Nick must die. I was resolute. The only problem was how. That would take years to resolve.